


Sinful Excerpts

by whyntir



Series: Let Go (Be Free) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Begging, Blindfolds, Body Worship, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Language, Language Kink, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17151380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyntir/pseuds/whyntir
Summary: Just the business end of Let Go, the plot, character interactions and world building have been removed for the pure enjoyment of uninterrupted sexual exploration. Even some behind the scenes stuff like visuals of rig designs or scrapped ideas.Enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

His own breath echoed in his ears, the eerie silence engulfing him, it was unnerving. Every inhale sent ripples of cold anticipation through his body, despite the warmth of the room. The heavy blindfold secured over his eyes left him suspended in an expanse of darkness. His other senses straining to accommodate; ears pounding as his pulse hitched, bare skin tingling in a way that almost hurt. The soft rope held firm around his crossed wrists behind his head, but not tight enough to be painful. More bindings secured his forearms to his biceps, locking his upper body in place. From the knot around his hands, a braided cord pulled just tight enough, attaching to an anchoring rope around his waist, forcing him to arch his lower back to keep the pressure off his shoulders.His legs were secured in a kneeling position, tied calf to thigh, save for the intricate knots pressing along the sides, making it uncomfortable to close his knees. It wasn’t necessarily difficult; the position itself not hard to maintain despite the mental stress of the situation.

He exhaled a shuddering breath, contemplating the urge to just curl in on himself, discomfort be damned. A pitiful groan escaped the back of his throat, causing his own body to react, back arching further. The sound of his own voice was all it took to set him on edge.

A gentle laugh finally broke the silence and he bit his lip, fighting back the sigh of pleasure rippling through him. “No biting,” the smooth voice scolded, now looming just behind him, “Let me hear you.”

Another groan escaped his throat as his lip slipped between his teeth, his entire body trembling despite the heat consuming him. Every nerve charged in anticipation, straining from just the faintest caress of a warm breath against his shoulder blade. He was right there, so close it hurt to think about.

“Good boy.” The words were so simple, even demeaning if it had been murmured in any other context. But where they were, right now, it sent his heart stuttering against his breastbone. A bead of sweat trailed down the small of his back, the discomfort that should have been there from holding such a pose for so long was barely even registered, the rush of endorphins deadening the pain receptors.

A finger gently trailed down the soles of his feet, his toes curling instinctively at the sensation, exhaling sharply in his best attempt at a laugh. The voice behind him chuckled as well, eating up every tiny reaction his body made. He swore he could feel those eyes on him, roaming over his naked form, appraising the dips and curves of his anatomy, admiring the bone and muscle structure, noting every mole and freckle and scar.

He shuddered, lamenting with a pathetic whimper, the ragged edge of a sob threatening to escape. “What do you want?”

“Please.” The word tumbled from his lips without his consent, his brain barely able to string thoughts together beyond the electrical thrum of his arousal. “Please.”

“Please what? I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”

The pitiful keen from the back of his throat spoke volumes of what he wanted and the other damn well knew it. He could hear the smile behind the words, his mind formulating the image behind the thick blindfold just to taunt him. “Shit, please! Touch me! Please.”

Two warm hands wrapped around his arms, fingers trailing down the outline of his silhouette languidly, as though completely ignorant of the effect it had on him. He had no clue how long he had been sitting in darkness, but the gentle sensation of touch was enough to shake the remaining foundation of his mind. He sighed at the release, the pent up frustration seeping out from under the gentle ministrations.

“Like this?” the voice asked, he felt the heat of the other’s body radiating against his back and legs and hands, the ropes keeping him locked in place and open. The hands traveled further down, caressing his torso, dancing along the sensitive skin just above the rope knotted around his waist, eliciting a shaky moan. His chin tucked into the hollow of his throat, the best he could do given the situation. Undeterred, the hands trailed in, dragging up his taut stomach, thumbing away a hot trail of sweat before playfully rimming around his navel.

Reverence. He had watched the ropes glide over his skin, felt the nylon’s cool pressure and hands with small, smooth calluses adore him in the beauty of their intricate knots. He had thought them a work of art and himself as the canvas, but the way those hands explored him slowly, gently; as if  he  was the masterpiece. A quivering sigh, his thoughts unravelling, consumed by the bombardment of physical sensations. It was so much, too much, he feared he would float away as he sucked in his bottom lip, biting down harshly to ground himself inside his body.

“No biting,” the tone was less playful, the authoritative note coursing through him on a level beyond blood and bone, leaving a cold chill sitting in the hollow of his ribcage, rippling through every muscle; a harsh contrast of the warm sweat and heat of the body behind him, the inferno of a voice, husky with arousal, but firm and commanding, caressing his jawline.  “Last warning.”

One hand set about working over his body, thumb circling a pert nipple lazily as the other trailed down, discreetly checking the tension in the rope around his hips before continuing down. Caressing the outer thigh, massaging around the ropes in a way that alleviated tension he hadn’t known he had been keeping. It wasn’t what he needed however, the endless teasing wearing him thin as he ground his teeth together, a frustrated groan keening from the back of his throat.

“You sound so dejected, what is it you need Simon?”

Hearing his name racked his body with a hot jolt of pleasure, goosebumps tingling all over his body as the other took in every reaction he elicited from the normally reserved blonde. “Please touch me.”

“But I am,” the voice cooed playfully, a hint of sadism laced inside as his left nipple was tweaked for emphasis, his breath hitching in his throat somewhere between a gasp and a groan. “Is there something specific you want me to touch?”

The realization that the other was expecting an answer dawned on him, those hands never once making a move towards his desire. A broken note escaped him, something that didn’t readily sound human. He could barely recognize his own voice, yet he was expected to string together words. Somewhere inside, he felt himself cracking. The individual who would never have done this, never dreamed of being tied up by a stranger, of begging for release of an entirely different kind. That person was breaking.

“Please,” he whimpered, head hung as low as he could manage, only for the hand on his chest to glide upwards, leaving his body to tilt his face up, exposing his neck, reminding him of just how vulnerable and powerless he was.

“Please what?”

“God,” his voice was weak, uneven, “Please, touch my cock.”

The hand on his thigh moved without hurry, gliding to his hip bone, down into the hollow of his pelvis. Warm fingers with smooth calluses wrapping around him in a delicate grip.

“Shit,” he gasped, voice pitching up as a languid pace was set. A series of swears tumbling from his tongue. It wasn’t enough, it was a gentle torture of teasing and soft voices and the trail of butterfly kisses along his shoulder.

“You’re okay, you’re doing so well.” The way the pad of his thumb swiped over the sensitive head, toyed with the glans, spreading something warm and wet over the length of him. “You’re so cute.”

He shuddered from the inside out, like his broken pieces were being held together, ropes and knots containing the fragments, conforming them into something new.

* * *

He watched everything, the gloss of sweat beading along flushed pale skin, the haze of pink dusting across the tips of his ears, the way the light played along his oblong face, shadows settling in the hollows of his cheeks. He vaguely regretted not choosing a position where he could clearly see the blonde’s face, but the blindfold would cover those gentle and expressive eyes. Instead, he focused on the delicious little sounds and the way pleasure rippled through the muscles of his legs and back, how his toes would curl and twitch and his stomach would tighten out of time with every hot, open-mouthed breath. The initial groans of frustration slowly pitching higher as Markus gradually added pressure while maintaining the steady rhythm.

He honed in on little sighs as he toyed with the foreskin, the gasps of pleasure as his thumb slid over the slit, smearing precum over the pink head. His favourite had to be the ragged moans that would escape as he ran the knuckle of his index finger along the underside of the glans with every upward stroke. His whole body would react, head thrown back, entire frame quivering with ecstasy.

“Markus!” Simon gasped out his name. It sent a rolling heat straight through his stomach to his groin. His voice thick, worn and needy. He wanted to fulfill that need, speeding up his motions, wanting to watch the blonde come undone. “No, Markus! W-wait!”

His hand slowed, not wanting to jolt the other by stopping immediately, resuming his initial pressure to the choked sob of the blonde. “What is it, Simon?”

“I’m going to cum.”

A small smile tugged at Markus’ lips at the confession. He loved hearing those harsh words spill from the demure male. “That’s the point, beautiful.” He enunciated the compliment with a twist of his wrist, watching the shockwaves of the simple action dance through the other. The way he involuntarily pulled at the ropes promising marks for at least a few days. The thought of leaving any kind of reminder on him was exciting.

“N-No. Markus, I want you.”

He was so cute it was almost painful to tease him, but it was so satisfying to watch him struggle with himself. “I’m right here, baby. What do you want me to do?” Markus place another kiss along his back, trailing down the ridges of his spine.

“Oh my god,” he groaned pitifully, Markus could feel the reverb from where he nipped playfully along the crest of his shoulder blade. “Fuck me, Markus! I want you to fuck me!”

He barely bit back the laughter that threatened to bubble up, the desperation and irritation clear, but the vulgar language shooting straight to his straining groin.

“Alright, I’m going to lay you down.” Markus placed a hand flush against the other’s chest, using his elbow to ease Simon forward, face down onto the wood flooring.

His back arched beautifully, hands twitching at the back of his neck, unsure of how to distribute his weight to balance with his ankles still laced to his thighs, forcing him high on his knees. The view was beautiful, lithe frame spread open for him. Markus caressed the inside of slender thighs, muscles fluttering under his fingertips. The puckered entrance like a virgin, gripping the blonde’s hip he pressed the tip of his tongue against the quivering hole, flicking downward to drag the flat of his tongue along the ring of muscles. He was tight, Markus couldn’t even worm the tip inside. He tasted clean, untouched.

“Fuck!” Simon swore, toes curling in, the skin around the ropes an agitated red colour from all his fussing.

“All in due time.” Markus’ quip was met with a groan, though he caught the flash of a smile. Reaching to the dresser for the bottle of lubricant, pouring a generous amount over his fingers. “You really are tight.”

“I warned you.”

“It’s fine,” Markus pressed a slippery digit against the entrance, applying a slight pressure before relaxing. “You’re really just too cute.”

Simon grunted as Markus slipped inside to the first knuckle. He waited, feeling the muscles spasm at being penetrated, allowing the other to get used to the sensation before retracting until only his fingertip remained before pressing back in, a little less patient as he pushed in to just before the second joint of his middle finger. Simon gave a shuddering gasp in response, Markus training his body to accept him, coaxing it into submission. The heat was immense, the inner walls clenching around the single digit. Markus placed a kiss at the small of the blonde’s back, adding another.

The sounds he made were tighter, still aroused and needy, but a lace of pain pulling him from that headspace he had been in earlier. Markus reached down, hand wrapping around his girth, adding gentle friction to distract the other male as he scissored inside, slowly dragging them out to the tip before sliding back in, curling his fingers as they were buried to the hilt. He heard the gasp as every muscle clenched down, the blonde’s toes splayed out involuntarily. He repeated the action, earning a muffled moan.

“Are you biting your lip again?”

There was a delay of silence, his hands stilling in their motion entirely as he waited for an answer, earning a whimpering, “Yes.”

Markus choked back a laugh, though unable to hold off his smile, “I honestly didn’t expect the truth.”

“God, Markus, move, please!” Simon begged, back arching further to try and keep the sensations alive. The direct request coming so easily, perhaps he hadn’t slipped as much as Markus had thought.

“Ah, I did say you already had your last warning,” he released the other’s weeping arousal to a dismayed mewl. “You need to be punished for being disobedient.”

He felt Simon tighten around him, even as he slowly continued to thrust with his fingers. Using his free hand, he took the blonde’s foot, feeling the other male jerk back. A wicked idea crossed Markus’ mind as he danced his fingertips over the sole of the other’s foot, a loud gasp and whimpering moans between short bursts of laughter.

“Are you going to bite your lip again?” he asked playfully, taking the opportunity to add a third finger as Simon’s feet flailed helplessly, kept in place by the ropes.

“No! No I won’t bite again!” Simon practically yelled, as though trying to talk over his own voice, “I promise! Oh my god, Markus! I can’t!”

Markus giggled in return, but accepted the apology, ending his abuse of the other’s foot as he splayed out the fingers inside the other, Simon suddenly aware of how full he was feeling with a deep moan. Or perhaps he was just appreciating not being tickled further. “Good boy. I want to hear everything.”

Simon responded eagerly, quickly falling into his headspace. The ropes had to be getting uncomfortable, the pressure against his chest with the weight of his hands at the back of his neck must have made it hard to breathe, but he hadn’t complained once, too far gone. He broke through that barrier and Markus really did regret his decisions, at least for the first time. He wanted to  see . How did he look? His mouth fallen open, lewd noises tumbling from the back of his throat. Those gentle eyes hazed over and unfocused with lust.

Imagining it, he felt a hot need, pumping his fingers a few more times before pulling away. “Simon, may I enter you?”

His voice was thin, shuddering with desire, he definitely wasn’t all there any longer, sinking deeper.

“Yes, please.”


	2. Chapter one: Rig Design




End file.
